Well I just finished every season/ep of Californication that’s on Netflix. One of the best shows ever imo. Now I wait for the next, and final, season. Guess it’s time to go start reading Game of Thrones, book 1 now.
25 push-ups for every slice I eat. And that kids is how I magically turned pizza into a healthy food.
They say life is a journey not a destination. I say good fucking thing because I don’t have a clue where I’m going or even where I want to go. And I’m not talking the same bs destination that every cock sucker on the planet wants (to end up rich, driving a nice car, spending time with a nice girl, etc), because of course all of that stuff would be nice. But nice isn’t original, nor is it very exciting. No, I’m not talking material things at all, man. I’m talking the journey. The fun. The adventure of it all.
See, you’ve got to think of material things as the orgasm. Do you remember the orgasm? Sure. Was the orgasm fun? Definitely. Did it last a long time? Fuck no. So what’s the exciting part to remember? It’s the actual love making. It’s the journey.
The sounds, the positions, the feeling of having your lover as close to you as possible. That’s what you remember the most because that’s the part that was meaningful. At least to me.
Sometimes I’m in the mood to make love and sometimes I’m in the mood to fuck like an animal but either way the first thing I want to do when I get done making love or fucking is make love or fuck again because that’s the exciting part. And that’s what I want my life to be like; the fun of getting to the climax, enjoying every minute of it, and hoping like hell it takes me a long time to get there.
You don’t have to be rich. You don’t have to be overly educated. You don’t have to have a nice car. Hell, you don’t even have to make sense to anyone. Just enjoy yourself and the people and experiences that come your way.
Because let me tell you, you cool ass reader of my literary vomit, nothing is going to give you back this time once it’s gone. You got that? This is it. One ticket. One ride.
Sure it could all end tomorrow. But fuck it, it could all end fifty years from now too. Do you want to get to the end with a head and heart full of ‘what ifs’ or do you want a sense of accomplishment? Or that career you’ve always wanted? Or that one person you’ll always be madly in love with. The choice is yours to make. But how much time you have to make it isn’t. So stop wasting time on the people and things that don’t fucking matter and never will.
Today is all you’ve got so make it count and don’t let anyone talk you out of it, make you feel bad about it, or try to get you to be like them, all full of negativity and fear. Fuck them. No one knows how to do you better than you do. That sounded a little dirty but never mind that. Just do what you gotta do. And get a towel and wipe up the wet spot when you’re done for fuck’s sake.
One minute the world is colorful and alive and the next it’s black and dead. No one can mind fuck you like yourself. Am I right? Of course I’m fucking right. Especially when it comes to our relationships with each other. She either loves you or she doesn’t. He’s either loyal to you or he isn’t. They’re either counting the minutes to when they get to leave the office and go home to fuck your brains out or they’re taking turns doing all of their co-workers in the janitor’s closet. But don’t let that stop you from having a relationship, if you’re into that sort of thing.
A relationship is beautiful chaos, instability, and second guessing. Being single is freedom, spontaneity, and second guessing. There’s no real benefit of one over the other and it really comes down to the lifestyle you want to live and the type of drama you want to deal with. Life is nothing more than tweaking the personal preferences on how you want to arrive at your grave.
The point is it all comes down to that one question that you’ll probably never truly answer because it’s always evolving:
What makes you happy?
Is there an answer to that question? Sure. But it’s not given to you as a word, a sentence, or even a paragraph. And no “self help” book is going to answer it for you either so don’t bother wasting your money. I know, fucking bummer. Everything has to be difficult.
But honestly, the only way to answer that question is by following your heart day by day and making the choices that you believe in. Did you catch that? Making the choices that YOU believe in. Not your peers. Not cheesy politicians. Not wishy-washy celebrities. Not even non-wishy-washy celebrities. And certainly not those ‘reality tv’ fucks that do nothing but increase alcohol and aspirin sales. And about that, Jesus fucking Christ, trying to understand the point of having all these reality morons on television makes me have suicidal thoughts. America can be a seriously fucked up place sometimes. But that’s shit for another conversation.
If you want to be happy then be happy. Yeah, it really is that easy.
You don’t have to wake up every day with the mentality that life has nothing more to offer you than being a miserable fuck for sixteen hours and then giving your pillow some head. Nor do you need happy pills or a six pack. Just get your ass out there. Grab a book. Write something. Go buy a camera. Do something for yourself or someone else. Give your all in a relationship and build it up together and make it something so fucking great it lasts a lifetime because that person means everything to you.
Whatever you choose to do with your life just stop sitting there and go do it. And don’t worry, I’m no expert. I’m writing this just as much for myself as I am for anyone else. Probably more so because no one’s reading this crap anyway. I’m really good at the advice giving, not so much in the taking of it. But what the hell, you only live once and I do what I want.
Some nights are just lonely as fuck.
I never ask people why they follow me. I already know that if you’re following me you’re probably nuts and I don’t want to bring myself to the attention of crazy people.
— Rumi (via themarke)